“Fuck the action… I need to hear the words. I’m chill about a lot of shit, but wasting my time, Zoya. I’ve spent years wasting time … not trying to be free and do the same thing. Let me know if I need to fall back… or are you ready for a nigga to make you feel safe, Zoya.” I realized whenever he used my name, he was serious as shit.
I avoided eye contact, and he pulled my face back towards him. “You’re not wasting your time, Gerald.”
He caressed my chin while peering into my eyes, never breaking eye contact with me. “That’s your word?”
Before I could reply, he held his other hand up.
“Before you give me your word, you need to know that I’m serious about people giving me their word. When I give mine, I stand on everything I say I’m gonna do. Now, is that you word?”
“Yes.”
When he was satisfied with my answer, he released my chin and walked back around the counter to continue to make breakfast. Gerald Levert played softly as he sang the words to the song.
“I don’t eat oatmeal.”
He looked up from the bubbling pot. “Good thing we’re not eating oatmeal.”
I watched as he ladled whatever in the pot into a small bowl and slid it across the counter. “Milk soup?”
“Porridge.”
“Like the three bears and Goldie Locks?”
He stared at me briefly and started to laugh. “The fuck I’m gonna do with you, Boobie?”
“Probably leave,” I muttered, but he heard every single word I had said to him and put the ladle down. “I promise I’m not being dark, Gerald. That is usually what happens.”
“Not what happened with cornball.”
I sighed. “I tend to end things before they can actually end.”
He nodded his head and stood there, still focused on me. I knew I wasn’t going to eat his milk soup that he spent the morning making, so I planned to walk into town to find a café to have a quick bite.
I wasn’t as picky with food as Menace, but I was particular with certain foods. I hated too much texture. Oatmeal, and soft foods always freaked me out. Capri had given me Boba in college before and I stopped speaking to her for a week.
Why would someone ever let those little balls sneak up on them and bust in their mouths?
I didn’t like sharing milk with people. Landon took a spoon full of my cereal when we were younger and I nearly took his head off, and Kora had to hold me back. Yogurt depended on the day I was having, and usually I would pass on those.
Every time I went to the grocery store, I stocked up on yogurt like I was going to eat it, and all it served was nice decoration for the fridge, and if it was plain yogurt, I usually mixed it in with Bando’s food for a treat.
I loved different sauces, as long as they weren’t chunky or had anything added into them. Mangos were my enemy, and I always lied and told people I was allergic.
“Cause you always fucking scared.”
“Don’t curse at me.”
He smirked. “Sorry, Boobie.”
It was the way he smirked while licking his thick lips at me. The man knew he was fine with his dark chocolate skin that had its own glow to it. His broad nose was my favorite thing about him. I loved a man that had a bigger nose.
His lips were pink and thick, and whenever he licked them, it was a battle to focus. His beard was thick and full, and within all the times I had been around him, I knew he brushed it out and applied an oil to it.
He nearly flipped out when he thought he forgot it in Barbados. How did I know he nearly flipped out? Because he was trying to use my expensive hair oil on his beard until I went to help him look.
Whenever he tucked his bottom lip in, I found myself staring at that small patch underneath his lip. It wasn’t just Gerald though; it was my favorite part of a man’s face. In my opinion, it was the most underrated. The moment they tucked that lip in, I was mush.
Gerald’s eyes were special.
